tomogaso

My mom and dad left the house for the evening. My brother asked me if I wanted to throw matches on the balcony with him. After I agreed to it, he showed me that his drawer was full of small, transparent bags full of matches. There were about 6-10 blue/green-tinted bags filled with about 20 matches each.

I found myself in my room from Emilia Randica 4, with my brother nowhere in sight. I tried to light a match but just ended making brownish-red smears over the matchbox. It didn’t have the proper striking surface.
I finally lit a match and then another one and threw them both in my trash basket. They landed on a plastic bag (like one for chips), and the bag started melting. Soon there was smoke coming from the top of the bag so I panicked and put it out with my hands. *note:last night I watched a Breaking bad epizode where Walter threw illegal cash in his BBQ and set it on fire, after which he panicked and put it out with his hands.*

Suddenly I was playing WoT with my friend Daniel. I was in my T-34-85 (although IRL I have the Type58-a Chinese copy of the T-34-85). It had an autoloader with some 8’ish rounds and fired two at a time, one after the other. It had really low penetration as I couldn’t reliably pen an enemy M4 Sherman, nor a T34-85.

The map looked similar to Swamp, and we were in the south-east. It had more holes and water than Swamp, with a river in the middle, and I was alone in the east. Daniel was somewhere north of my position.
I flanked both the Sherman and the T-34-85, the battle was nearing its end. The M4 wiggled into the hole and dug in, preventing me from penetrating him. I threw down my leg at him, hitting him with my heel. (as my physical foot appeared, larger than a tank, I should have noticed I was dreaming.)
After bashing him, the M4 died and in his place stood a wreck of a M7 (or M4 Priest, both are arty platforms built on a M4 chassis and look alike).